Valkyrie
by indeliblememories
Summary: Neurotic, fearful, weak. Alien she is, warrior she is not. And she is far from prepared to be called back to Asgard. My interpretation of Sigyn from Norse mythology, in the Marvel Universe.
1. Closeted

Chapter One: Closeted

People come to Las Vegas for different reasons. Some, to get hitched. Others, wasted. Some need an excuse to lose their money at the roulette tables and wake up next to a stranger in an unfamiliar hotel room. Many of the people who come to Las Vegas are just looking to get away from something.

Sigyn fell into that last category. But the something she needed to get away from was far from the usual vindictive spouse or unreasonable employer. No, it was something a little less ordinary. And this thing she had to get away from- it was much more difficult to shake than the usual vindictive spouse or unreasonable employer. Which was why she _needed_ Las Vegas. It wasn't a matter of choice.

So here she was, waking up from a nap in a cramped little studio apartment smack in the middle of Sin City. Preparing for another day of bartending at the Bellagio's Hyde tavern, another day of people-watching and cocktail mixing, all against the backdrop of majestic fountains and tacky buildings that slowly gained appeal as the day turned to night and the lights winked on all around the city. She loved it. Couldn't get enough of it. Because living in a place where indulgence came above all else and culture was more important than substance was the perfect thing to remedy a sour past filled with broken relationships.

Sigyn stared leisurely up at the ceiling, buried in blankets and not ready to get up just yet. Right now she felt she could spend the whole day in bed. Or maybe she was just trying to put off the inevitable panic attack that would grip her the moment she really got started. Glancing at the clock on her nightstand, she discovered that it was three-thirty. Maybe hitting the snooze button in favor of studying her ceiling fan hadn't been such a good idea.

Slowly Sigyn dragged herself out of bed, stretching and rubbing her eyes as she tried to work the shroud of sleep away. When she had woken herself up sufficiently, she turned to address her bed, which she couldn't stand to see unmade for any reason. She made it three times before she decided it was good enough. Then she unmade it and remade it again, just to be safe.

The OCD had started around the same time she had started doing strange things- things that a twelve-year-old girl shouldn't have been able to do. And this wasn't just a matter of, "Oh, she's a little different" or "She's just special". This was a matter of a seemingly-normal girl growing wings. Having an arm that turned into a vicious, gigantic claw. Being able to fight. This was a matter of _supernatural_, and it was what resulted from a Valkyrie of Asgard having a child with a human man. So yes, she had OCD, as well as a slew of accompanying phobias. But that was barely the beginning of it.

Finally able to look at her bed without getting nervous, Sigyn quickly dressed out of her nightgown (being sure to fold it neatly before putting it in the laundry basket) and got into the shower. She had become adept at getting immaculately clean in a short amount of time, scrubbing herself thoroughly and washing her hair twice to make sure it was clean. When that was done, she set about dressing and getting her hair perfect (a crooked part or stray hair was enough to stress her out more than it should) before taking a moment to straighten up her already meticulously clean bedroom.

By the time she'd applied makeup with artistic precision and gotten around to breakfast, it was already four-thirty PM. My, how time had flown. Sitting down to a meal of fruit (she gained weight viciously whenever she wasn't dieting), Sigyn was finally able to collect herself in preparation for the night ahead of her. Eyes narrowed, she drank coffee and looked over the newspaper, all morning activities reserved for the afternoon due to a night shift and a royally screwed-up body clock. After arranging her dishes neatly in the washer, she tugged on her boots, grabbed her purse and hurried out of her apartment. Her shift started at five PM and ended at three in the morning.

_I shouldn't have made the bed that last time,_ she thought as she rushed down the stairs and out the doors, glancing at her watch in a panic. Four forty-five. Running now, she almost tripped over the curb as she rounded the corner and made a beeline for the bus stop.

Ingrid was on the bus. Sigyn took a seat nearby the moment she saw her friend. "Hey," she said breathlessly. Ingrid was a vision: a tall, curvaceous brunette with poise and stature that a runway model would kill for. Sigyn had a hopeless crush on her when the two were in high school, but now only saw her as a friend (she refused to believe, however, that Ingrid was her only friend). Sigyn paled terribly next to Ingrid- Sigyn, with her shapeless figure, honey blonde curls and flat gray eyes. Sigyn, with her snub nose and washy complexion speckled with scabs she couldn't help but pick at.

"Hey," Ingrid replied, pulling her purse into her lap and turning to get a better look at Sigyn. "You almost didn't make it."

"I know," Sigyn acknowledged as the bus rumbled away. She shook her head. "Is it just me, or is this bus coming a little earlier every day?"

"It's you," Ingrid told her. "Is everything all right?"

"Oh, yeah." Sigyn forced a smile. "Well, I was taking a nap."

"I don't blame you," Ingrid replied. "I keep wondering why I ever took this job. All I ever do anymore is sleep- this shift is going to kill me. " She grinned, but it didn't reach her eyes. She had clearly seen through Sigyn's chipper façade. There was a pause and her eyebrows furrowed, a concerned frown appearing on her face. "It's getting worse, isn't it?"

"What is?"

Ingrid rolled her eyes. "Come on, Sigyn."

"Shit," Sigyn muttered, closing her eyes. Then, turning to Ingrid, "Yeah. It is."

"Have you ever thought about seeing someone?" Ingrid asked cautiously. "I mean, it's a pretty common disorder…"

She _had_ thought about it. But there was no way. If it meant having someone know about what she could do, the reason she'd cut ties with her mother, moved somewhere she could disappear, she would gladly suffer with neurosis. Sure, mutants were getting more common, slowly gaining respect from the world at large. After what the Avengers had done to stop that psychotic Asgardian bastard, Loki, the general public wasn't exactly in a position to mistreat gifted individuals. But she wasn't a mutant. And she wasn't a costume, either. She was just a bartender who'd gotten stuck with some interesting genes. And regardless of the ties- to Asgard, to Odin, to the Valkyries- that some might say obligated her to help her own kind, she felt no connection to any of it. Or at least, not enough of a connection to warrant trying to do something with her abilities.

As if on cue, Sigyn's shoulder blades began to itch. Damn. It wasn't even seven and already the wings wanted to come out. Soon the same thing would start nagging at her right arm, demanding usage, even if it meant exposing her true nature to all those around her. Which meant she was in for a day of discomfort all the way up until she got home again, could let the stupid wings come out and the claw form, satisfying that primitive need while she pored over books of Norse mythology and binged on potato chips.

Such was the life of a closet Valkyrie.


	2. The Hyde

Chapter Two: The Hyde

"…Sigyn?"

Sigyn jumped, realizing someone was talking to her. In her defense, it was loud in here. Turning to Ingrid, she saw that her friend was struggling to keep from smiling. "What is it?" she asked in confusion.

"You've been cleaning that glass for ten minutes," Ingrid informed her.

It was true. Glancing down at the glass she'd been polishing absentmindedly, Sigyn blushed but didn't stop scrubbing. "It's not clean yet," she protested.

"Yes, it is." Ingrid was assembling some sort of beverage for one of the patrons who had approached the bar, putting ice and booze in a blender and looking back at Sigyn.

"No, it's not," argued Sigyn, still polishing feverishly. There was a spot on the inside, large enough to warrant attention, that was refusing to come off. "There's some gunk on it."

"Sigyn, it's fine!" Ingrid responded, laughing as she finished making the drink. "There you go, Sir," she added politely to the man at the bar as she handed it to him. "Look at it! It's clean! I need some help over here."

"But-"

"Sigyn, please! Look at how many people just got in. I can't do this on my own."

Sigyn glanced around the establishment, realizing her friend was right. A party had just arrived, and the moment they got settled the bar would be swamped. Reluctantly she set the glass down, draping the dish towel over the counter as she moved to assist Ingrid.

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Ingrid teased, nudging her playfully. "Better get working," she added as a young woman approached the bar, ready for another margarita.

Following suit, Sigyn began addressing patrons, whose levels of intoxication ranged from slightly relaxed to completely inebriated. There was always the one tipsy bachelor or middle aged man who made some flippant flirtatious comment, unaware that Sigyn was a 21-year-old virgin who probably couldn't act romantic if her life depended on it. _It's just Vegas_, she told herself amicably, and continued nonchalantly making drinks. Ingrid, on the other hand, was an outgoing vision, always knowing exactly what to say and how to charm the most jaded clients.

Slowly the night wore on, more and more customers trickling in as the bar came to life and conversations picked up. Eventually allowed to take a break, Sigyn escaped from the bar long enough to get out of the hotel and breathe in the night air. Lights were shining, people were moving about the streets in loud, raucous groups. Taxis raced along the street, and a bachelorette party meandered past her, laughing and nudging one another.

Yanking a tube of hand sanitizer out of her purse, Sigyn slathered herself with it, shuddering at the thought of the amount of germs she must have picked up. She looked up, taking in the view with the starry eyes of someone infatuated with her city as she tugged her jacket around her and pulled her bag back onto her shoulder. Escapism. Fantasy. Culture.

Her phone vibrated in her back pocket, startling her from her trance. Looking around nervously to make sure her boss wasn't watching, she quickly grabbed it and checked the screen. A text message was there, from a phone number she recognized all too well. _I'm gonna be in Vegas for a few days. Mind if I stop by? XOXO Mom_

Sigyn cringed, then meticulously pounded out a reply: _Why now?_

Crossing her arms, she waited until a response came: _Stuff going on. There's something I need to talk 2 u about._

Sigyn toyed with this for a minute, shifting from foot to foot. With a heavy sigh, she answered. _Ok. Come to my apartment._

Just as she'd finished, a new message came, this time from Ingrid: _Get back in here! I'm drowning._ Sigyn made sure to shut off her phone before pocketing it again. Putting thoughts of her mother out of her head, she scurried back into the hotel to rejoin her friend at the bar.

"Thank god," Ingrid cried the moment she saw her. "I have to pee! Do you mind…?"

"Nope. Go ahead," Sigyn answered, sidling up behind the bar as Ingrid bolted in the direction of the bathrooms.

Her cell phone felt heavy in her pocket. Why now? It wasn't that she didn't want to see her mother- on the contrary, that might actually be nice. It was what that would entail- the unpleasant reminder of "_You're different. You don't belong here"_ forced into her mind like a poison. _You're not human. You're not a mutant. You're something else. This isn't your world._

Shaking herself, Sigyn brushed her hair behind her ears, turning to the man who had just arrived at the bar. "Welcome to the Hyde bar. What can I get you?"


	3. Distorted and Diluted

Chapter Three: Distorted and Diluted

Sigyn pushed the door closed behind her as she reentered her apartment, sagging against the wall and sighing with relief at being alone once again. The itching was getting unbearable. She took off her jacket as fast as she could, yanking her shirt off desperately as she headed into the home. "Have a field day," she told her burning back. In an instant, two masses of white feathers erupted from her shoulders, stretching eagerly and flapping several times. Wings they were, the exact same kind the Valkyries that defended Asgard used to take them where they needed to go. Except the Valkyries of Asgard didn't have to keep them hidden, lest S.H.I.E.L.D. pick up on it and decide to butt in with their experiments and initiatives.

She wasn't so lucky when it came to her right arm. Unlike the warrior women of the stories, Valkyries choice weapons were not weapons at all; rather, a mutation of some kind that allowed them to turn their arms into giant, armored, muscular things with talons instead of fingers. Again, they weren't forced to keep this hidden. But, dissimilarly, Sigyn only had one, not both. Perhaps it was a reflection of her human half, or maybe something had just gotten screwed up in utero. Whatever the reason, her lack of transformation ability in both arms just served to further point out her abnormality. She was distorted as a human, diluted as a Valkyrie. Was this why so few demigods existed?

No matter. Warmth rippled up her right arm as an armor-like casing formed over it, all the way up to her shoulder, her fingers losing some of their mobility as they solidified, sharpened, taking the form of daggers. A foreign appendage, the claw- or whatever it was- more resembled an attached weapon than part of her body.

Entering the bathroom, she lowered her arm, spreading her wings and taking herself in. Not a monster, not an angel, just… a thing. Bound to human appearances only by the bra that covered her pathetically flat chest.

Sigyn braced herself against the counter and leaned forward until her forehead was practically touching the glass of the mirror, her hair falling to partially obscure her face. A memory came to her then, bringing with it not pain but nostalgia.

_She had only been to Asgard once. She was five at the time, eyes wide and hair incessantly tangled. She remembered only fragments, but those were enough... Clinging to Mom's arm as they crossed the bridge from the Bifrost. Struggling into a pretty dress before going to meet someone important. Staring up at the other Valkyries as Mom greeted them, unsure how to act in the presence of such beauty and composure. The palace, grand beyond measure, timeless and bustling with activity. Odin, the patriarch, an untouchable icon, a veritable knight in shining armor. And, of course, his sons, the rambunctious, extroverted Thor and the quieter, darker one who would eventually become a threat not just to the people of Asgard, but the people of Midgard. Loki._

Sifting through these disjointed memories, primarily the ones involving her mother, Sigyn took the time to splash some water on her face before making her way to the kitchen for a pre-bedtime snack. It was difficult, to say the least. Every time she thought she had a handle on it all- Asgard, the Valkyries, two worlds- something happened that made her grip on it all slip away. Had things really been going all right? Or was that just hope talking? Either way, her mother's visit was going to unearth more memories. All she could do was pray that they wouldn't be enough to shake the tentative place she had found for herself here.

_Go to bed,_ she told herself, and, after a piece of toast, did just that.

It was eleven in the morning when Sigyn woke up. Not realizing it was her day off until after she was out of bed, she forced herself up so she could get some chores done. The carpet needed vacuuming, and the hardwood could probably use it, too. Then she had to clean the dead bugs off the windows, wash her clothes, and make the bathtub sparkle. And if she didn't order a new retainer, her teeth would start to get crooked again. She needed more hand sanitizer, too, but that could wait for the moment.

Turning her phone back on was a mistake, as it began chirping at her the moment she'd gotten the vacuum out of the closet. Reluctantly she answered it, expecting her mother, but instead getting Ingrid. "Hey," she said as she struggled to get the vacuum into her bedroom.

"Sigyn! Hey!" Ingrid sounded excited.

"What's up?" She had finally managed to get the damned thing plugged in.

"Listen, listen," came her friend's peppy voice, "wanna go grab some lunch? I know this great place by the Mandalay Bay-"

"Can't," Sigyn interrupted, wincing at how cold she sounded. "Sorry, Ingrid, there's just… some stuff I have to get done."

"Well, what about dinner?" Ingrid persisted, unfazed. "We should go out and do something! We've got the whole day."

"Why?" protested Sigyn, sounding whinier than she had intended. "I mean, can't you go on your own…? I really just need…"

"No, no," came Ingrid's reply. "No, Sigyn! I have a friend I want to introduce you to!"

"Well then, why can't you… Wait a minute," Sigyn paused, leaning on the vacuum cleaner. "Uh oh. Ingrid, _please-_"

"You haven't even met him yet!" protested Ingrid. "He's a grad student from California- super cute. He's just in town for a few days, and I really think you should-"

"Come on," argued Sigyn. "I'm not… That's not what… I… There're really some things I have to do!"

"I'll get through to you eventually," Ingrid promised. "Fine," she added after a pause. "No guys. What about just you and me?"

"I… Okay. Let me just- look, I'll call you back."

"Sure. See ya." Ingrid hung up, leaving Sigyn to pinch the bridge of her nose, eyes closed. Maybe she wouldn't vacuum today.

As it turned out, she didn't end up vacuuming. Or cleaning her bathtub. In fact, Sigyn found herself spending the rest of the day following Ingrid around a city she had no interest in exploring the dingier nooks and crannies of (she preferred her own romanticized version, thank you very much), first eating at a sushi restaurant and then visiting some stores Ingrid was curious about. This was followed by a matinee of a movie she'd never heard of, where the two mysteriously bumped into the very man Ingrid had wanted Sigyn to meet. Several extremely awkward minutes later, Sigyn, feeling inadequate and still disgusted at herself for eating uncooked sashimi (good god), excused herself, plastering a smile onto her face and getting a ride back to her apartment before she could be suckered into doing anything else.

Surprised when she entered her home and saw that the light was on, Sigyn poked her head into the living room, only to see a woman sitting on her sofa.


	4. Hilda

Chapter Four: Hilda

Sigyn hissed with surprise, a sound Hilda heard even from across the room. She turned to her daughter, rising from the sofa and smiling.

"Mom?"

"Surprise," Hilda said, opening her arms. Heart still pounding, Sigyn crossed the room and let her mother hug her. Hilda was every bit a Valkyrie of legend, impossibly tall, muscular and voluptuous. She retained her air of authority even in her human clothes, which made her look decidedly out of place.

Feeling compressed, Sigyn squirmed. Hilda let her go, but not before planting a kiss on her cheek. Sigyn wiped at it with her sleeve, tempted to make a break for the bathroom. Hilda only chuckled at this, amused and borderline-condescending as she took in this childish display. "I see you haven't changed," she remarked.

Sigyn stared at her, eyes large. "No," she said finally. "No, I haven't. It's good to see you," she added after a long pause, putting her hands in her pockets.

Hilda shook her head. "You're not a good liar, Sigyn." She picked up her duffel bag and crossed the room in several long strides, red hair streaming behind her. "Not that I blame you," she added, back turned, as she entered the kitchen. Sigyn followed nervously. "I wouldn't want to see me, either."

"I never said-"

"Have you eaten dinner yet?" Sigyn looked at her, setting her things neatly beside the table.

"I, uh…" Sigyn bit her nail, the thought of raw fish involuntarily entering her mind again. "I'm not really hungry. But you can, uh… you know, just… help yourself. The fridge is-"

But her mother was two steps ahead of her, already rummaging through her sizeable collection of diet foods and suspiciously-marked containers. "Damn," she stated as she assessed. "Don't you have any real food? Just kidding," she amended as Sigyn opened her mouth to protest. She took a seat at the table, arms full. She patted the spot beside her. Reluctantly, Sigyn sat, still feeling ill at ease. "So, how are you?" Hilda asked as she yanked the lid off a Tupperware container.

"I'm good," Sigyn replied. "I mean, I… Yeah, I'm good. Things are good. What about you?"

Hilda smiled. "Fine," she answered, before digging into a leftover chicken wing. Sigyn was still amazed at how much food her mother could put away. That was one thing she remembered very clearly: the people of Asgard ate a lot. "I went back," Hilda told her then.

Silence. "You went back?" Sigyn leaned forward, trying to read her mother's face. That couldn't be.

Hilda had come to Earth for a reason. That reason, predictably enough, was that she'd fallen in love with a human man, a human man who she had watched endlessly through the Bifrost before working up the gumption to ask Odin for permission to see him. How many fairy tales started out that way? That said, most fairy tales didn't end with the supposedly happy couple splitting up after the birth of their first child.

After much pleading, Odin had allowed this. Asgard had been peaceful then- relatively peaceful, anyway. Politics had yet to turn ugly and there was still a reluctant peace between them and the Frost Giants. So, down to Earth Hilda had come, where she found brief love and immersed herself in human culture. She became pregnant. Prince Charming had bolted then, leaving her to care for their child on her own. Aside from the one visit they'd taken when she was a child, Sigyn wasn't aware that her mother had been back to Asgard at all.

"I went back," Hilda repeated, nodding.

"Why?" blurted Sigyn. Hilda looked at her quizzically. "Why would you go back?"

"Odin wanted to see me," replied Hilda cautiously.

Sigyn rested her chin on her hand. "What for?" As far as she knew, the two of them hadn't been seeing each other. Not out of resentment, but out of necessity. A Valkyrie couldn't raise a half-human child in Asgard, and a king couldn't expect a mother to remain dedicated to being a warrior, much less a personal soldier.

"I…" Hilda's voice trailed off. "Look, Sigyn, I… It's complicated."

"I've got time."

Hilda sniffed, and then pushed her food away. "All right," she said, running a hand through her hair. "Come back to Asgard, Sigyn."

Sigyn's eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"

Hilda sighed. "Asgard is in danger, Sigyn."

"What do you mean?" demanded Sigyn, sitting up and scooting closer to the table. "I thought the Avengers-"

"Please. Don't start with the Avengers," Hilda interrupted, putting a hand up. "Their job was to protect Midgard. And they did it. That's not why I'm here."

"Then why are you?"

"Let me finish." Hilda took a breath. "Loki is back in Asgard. The Avengers have no business there. He's not their responsibility anymore. They have other things to deal with."

"But-"

"He's a prisoner now, Sigyn."

Sigyn's brow furrowed. "What does that have to do with us?"

Hilda shook her head. "Sigyn," she repeated slowly, "Asgard is in danger."

Sigyn threw her hands up. "That's not our problem!" She had no idea why Loki's presence as a prisoner would be a threat to Asgard, and frankly, she didn't care. She could feel her face heating up. To think she was half-expecting a _social_ visit.

"It is our problem!" snapped Hilda. "Asgard is our home!"

"No, Asgard is _your_ home." Sigyn bit her nail, averting her eyes. In the back of her mind, she realized she was provoking someone who could beat her senseless before she even knew what was happening. "I've only been there once! And honestly, I don't understand why you're-"

Hilda was growing angrier. "Don't act like you're not part of this!" She was gripping the side of the table, knuckles turning white. "You're my daughter. You should care about what happens!"

"Why?" cried Sigyn, frustrated. "It's not like I've done anything for them! I'm just a bartender! I… I'm…"

"What?" asked Hilda coldly. "Human?" Sigyn closed her mouth, unable to respond. Hilda looked away. "I'm sorry," she said after a moment. "I shouldn't have… That was a lot for you to… Look, I'm tired," she said, exhaling loudly. "Can we talk about this in the morning?"

Sigyn rose from her seat, swallowing hard. "You can have my bed," she said quietly.

She was still awake, lying on the couch and trying to sort things out. She hadn't wanted to fight with Hilda. Truth be told, she hadn't wanted to get sucked into a conversation about duty, either, but she couldn't help wondering if she'd been appropriately objective.

Sigyn rolled onto her side. So maybe she was a little resentful. But how did that change her role in all this? Did she have an obligation to her mother, even after making a life separate from Asgard? The problems of those in another world were just that: someone else's problems.

_See?_ part of her argued. _Stop being so selfish! And you're wondering why she got mad at you…!_ It was true. If it hadn't been her mother- if it had been Ingrid, for instance, or S.H.I.E.L.D… Hell, even Odin himself- she would probably have taken it differently. _She's your mom,_ that part of her continued, annoyingly self-righteous even if correct. _She came to you for a reason. Hear her out._

Sigyn sat up, rubbing her forehead. "Shit." All this soul-searching over a couple mutated body parts! Grabbing her blanket and pillow, she stood up and resignedly made her way for her room.

Hilda was in her bed, eyes closed. Trying to be quiet, Sigyn padded over to the unoccupied side and climbed in.

"I take it the couch didn't last long," her mother murmured.

Sigyn didn't reply immediately, moving until the two were almost touching. Then she hunkered down and shut her eyes. "We'll talk tomorrow," she said at last. "But it's still not my problem."


	5. Decisions

Chapter Five: Decisions

Hilda was already up, making breakfast, when Sigyn woke. She sat up slowly, taking note that her mother had left no trace she'd even been there. She could almost write it all off as a dream if she didn't smell pancakes. Drawn by this, Sigyn made the bed and scuttled into the kitchen, where Hilda was busy in front of the stove. "G'morning," she slurred, blinking a couple times.

"Hey, Sigyn." Hilda smiled, turning around. "I hope you're hungry."

Sigyn nodded, putting one hand on the kitchen table. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"You can come with me to Asgard."

"Mom, I…"

"I know, I know," Hilda said, chuckling. "Sit down. I owe you breakfast."

Reluctantly, Sigyn did as she was told. Hilda turned off the burner and set about plopping a stack of pancakes onto her daughter's plate. "Mom, just… Just don't forget… Hand wash first, and then put them in the dishwasher. And don't… Make sure you don't get fingerprints all over the plates. And use hot water, too. And, Mom-"

"Honey, eat your food." Hilda sat down, giving Sigyn a quick look before digging into her own breakfast.

Slowly Sigyn began to relax, the live wire that was her comfort level slowly beginning to calm down. "So," she said, beginning to eat, "let's do a reset. Why is Loki a danger to Asgard?"

Hilda exhaled loudly. "It's not Loki that's the problem. Not really."

"Then what is?"

"Listen," Hilda said, choosing her words carefully, "a lot of things have been going on in Asgard. Even you know that. But it's not just family politics anymore, Sigyn."

"Go on," Sigyn responded, reaching for the maple syrup.

"We've always had tense relationship with the Frost Giants." Hilda paused, closing her eyes for a moment. "Loki found out his real lineage. But that was just the beginning. What if he decides to side with them- for real, this time?"

"Well, he can't," Sigyn said matter-of-factly. "You said he was a prisoner."

"That's not it," continued Hilda. "Laufey and Odin were on the verge of war before Thor was exiled. With Loki in the know, the Frost Giants have even more reason to attack Asgard than before."

"All because of a baby?" Sigyn questioned tactlessly, brow furrowing.

"It's politics, Sigyn," Hilda said, exasperated. "And after what happened with the Tesseract… Look, Sigyn, Asgard's not peaceful anymore."

"So…" Sigyn crossed her arms. "You want me to go back there. Why? I wouldn't be any help!"

"You're my daughter," Hilda stated firmly. "You're a Valkyrie."

"No, I'm not!" protested Sigyn. "I'm just a girl! So I have wings. So what? That doesn't make me a fighter!"

"Listen to me," Hilda argued, keeping her voice low. "If things weren't bad, why would Odin want me there?! I haven't fought in years. But that doesn't mean I shouldn't go back!"

"You're asking me to just… leave," Sigyn said, shaking her head. "I mean, I… I can't just give up my life! I've got a job, I've got friends! I can't just go on some _mission_ to another world."

"Are you really happy here?" pressed Hilda. "You're stuck in this dump of a city, bad job, no family. You can't do what you want! At least in Asgard you don't have to hide."

"But I'm a half-breed! I'm watered down! Would Asgardians really want me around? I won't fit in!"

"You don't have to fit in," Hilda informed her. "You don't have to do anything. But if you care about what happens, you'll come. Admit it, Sigyn: you want to be useful."

Sigyn sighed. "I do," she conceded with a sigh. "I just…"

"You matter," Hilda told her firmly. "This is your chance to prove it."

Sigyn pushed away from the table, thinking. _I want to_, she thought passionately. _I really want to. _

_No, you don't,_ another part of her argued. _You'll never last in Asgard. Better here. You know the territory; no need to get hurt._

_But Asgard needs me! _The rebellious part was fighting back._ (Did I really just think that?) I can help them there. _

_You don't have to go there to be important!_

_Really? _She was on a roll. _Because you're so important right now. Mixing drinks all day, riding cabs around, organizing pens by manufacturing date… Yeah, the world really depends on you here, Sigyn. It'll fall apart without you._

_But-_

_But what? Scared?_

_No!_

_Then live a little._

And just like that, it was settled.

Sigyn met her mother's gaze. "Just tell me what I have to do."


End file.
